


craving you

by HongKongRepublic



Category: Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 00:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14008233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HongKongRepublic/pseuds/HongKongRepublic
Summary: Python compares Lukas in many ways, he sees similarities in nature’s beauty. More specifically, in disaster.





	craving you

“You’re like that cigarette, that shot of 100 proof, no matter how much I get, I’m always craving.  
That feeling when we kiss, the way your body moves, no matter how much I get, I’m always craving you.”

Craving You // Thomas Rhett

—-

Undercurrents. They twist, curling and writhing; never seen. Beneath the surface of water lies these currents, vicious and predatory, which resemble the hungriest of men in poverty. They’re feral currents, with a rush of emotions that swim behind it all. The ocean is mysterious, it’s cold land solemn until it transforms into a tempest, a hurricane hurling towards the land with no remorse. A slashing and burning gone wrong, the fires of the land ensuing their pyre. The violent winds that slice through the gaps, their whistling, the pounding of a monsoon, as rain piles and invades any spot of dry. The tsunamis that attack with a looming shadow and pressure, earthquakes that seize the land, cracking and ripping holes into the earth.

If you asked Python, these all described Lukas. A seemingly innocent action, turns vicious, violent. Passionate. Not even entirely innocent, a man who’s been carved to a perfect soldier, a force that cannot be held back by the simple tryings of Python, a man with no more compass. However, Lukas yields. He yields it entirely for Python. The last hit in training, the scraps of food remaining, any absolute strength the shorter could use against Python was contained. A caged animal, and Python would wait for it to crack, for the cage to snap and turn and for anything Lukas held to escape with a ferocity the Deliverance would never witness again. Not comparable to Alm, nor Berkut of Rigel. Lukas of Zofia held unimaginable strength.

Python didn’t believe himself to follow popular belief. He wasn’t constantly asleep, he wasn’t a man derived of purpose, he was a man who wanted the best for himself. He never brought it to thought, he descends to Cain’s heresy, no one else compared to his line of thought. It was complex, an undercurrent hiding under the exterior of sloth and a cynical eye. He criticised, his opinion offered whenever asked and his ideals on the front lines of his mind. He lacked interest in the Deliverance, truthfully. Until he viewed the mop of ginger, who strolled back into their base. He brought a peasant boy, amongst his friends.

Grandson of Sir Mycen. It was a sight to behold, in honesty. The one to reignite the Deliverance’s flame. Alm, as he was, held Lukas higher, a right-hand man. A spot Lukas deserved, but not to be babysitting five children. 

“Wonderful, sir.”

The words left Lukas, in the conflagration of battle. Python heard every syllable, to hear Lukas praise Alm in such a way he used to, to him. Python inhaled, reminding himself that a petty amount of jealousy couldn’t possibly tear Lukas away from him and towards Alm. The two were still lovers, as Python assumed, despite Lukas’ sudden growth in the ranks he had never noticed before. He pulled back his bow, energy renewed once more at the thought of Lukas on his own, a heavy blow, the newly attacking witch? Countered and disposed of. The Deliverance plowed through the enemies, crowding ten whole members into the nearby Dungeon. 

The dungeon left no room for Python to rest, gargoyles and terrors alike littered the area. With Alm and Lukas at their helm, however, the Deliverance quickly made it to the Mila Statue.

Python crowded with the other allies, the springs pouring forth blessed water, which the Deliverance eagerly drank, it was gluttonous, truly, to see men and women down holy water as if on their dying breath. Their attempts would be in vain, as Python saw little improvement, perhaps their strength was a little better in battle, he often noticed Gray moved faster, despite already being innately fast. However, the other Deliverance members were irrelevant to Python, he was more solely focused on how Lukas drank from the springs himself, wiping his chin with his glove before looking over to Python. He would patiently wait by the exit, hoping to leave quickly and get himself the rest he deserved, honestly. 

The Deliverance finished up their dungeon escapade. Alm’s closer friends enjoying a conversation, moving to approach the leader himself. Python looked around himself, before moving up to Lukas. He didn’t need to say anything to Lukas, a soft approach to Lukas meant the world to the two. The sun softly set over the nation of Rigel, the Zofians took shelter in a Rigelian forest, hoping to remain there for the night. When Lukas offered himself for the chance of keeping watch at night, Python graciously took up the task as well, however, he wouldn’t tell anyone he decided to take up the task. It was time where he was alone with Lukas. No Alm. No four companioning teenagers. No Forsyth or Clive or Mathilda. Simply the two. 

As the coming night dripped through the sunset, the green and blue of Rigel sparingly descending along the horizon, twilight climbing the sky, followed by the dark indigos that forged the stars through its shadow. Clouds receded the sky, the constellations that burned through the sky shone onto the frame of Lukas, who peeled an orange in silence, an angelic cross of pearl white against crimson hair. Python silently approached, walking against the soft grass that leeched any sense of noise and incoming military. 

Python nearly landed his hand on Lukas’ shoulder, until it was a flash of crimson. A being charged with strength who easily hunted on Python’s gentle offering, Lukas scowled down at the man beneath him. His face quickly contorted, seeing Python’s eyes blow wide, Python’s mind would frantically scatter, he completely and soulfully understood Lukas would crush him to pieces if given reason, however with the string of ancient Zofian curses he released at the feel of his constrained elbow, he might’ve underestimated such a generous assumption of strength.

Lukas quickly pulled himself off, standing before Python, until yanking Python’s body from the ground with nothing more than a tug. Perhaps Python was exaggerating with his lack of sleep, staying up to make sure Lukas properly slept himself, however that was all aside the point. Python found Lukas’ immoral strength rather, attractive, should that be the proper vocabulary Python would use, despite very intensely different thoughts. Python laughed gently, assuring Lukas he wouldn’t have to worry about injury; even if his elbow ached intensely. 

Python decided to further prove his point, holding Lukas’ right hand, fingerless gloves masking the soft ring of bronze. Python knelt, refusing to wince in any act of inferiority to Lukas; leading Lukas’ hand to his lips he softly pressed a kiss to the hand, Lukas in response growing a tender shade of pink, similar perhaps to a rose. Python mentally decided that was a good description of Lukas.

A rose, prickly and finicky, a sharp and cool exterior which protected the beauty of the flower, the essence of romanticism, the blood that rushed into his face resembles such. Lavish pink . roses that curl in correspondence of fluttering hearts. Orange roses that beamed in passion, and the yellow roses they laid upon Mila’s statues. The flax flowers that rested politely against the soft grounds, loyalty and obedience that trailed. The roses are strong however, and they keep a distance, blood roses dragged across white sheets that leave an imprint of dried blood and agony, a searing emotional that charred itself until finally wilting. 

Python snapped from his thoughts, to find Lukas with a soft and pleasant smile on his features. Python found himself drawn, a form of intensity and passion that took over himself. Lukas was taken aback, Python shoving him against a tree. His movements weren’t as calculated as he would’ve preferred, in honesty, he wanted to prove Lukas to be wrong in one sense or another. 

Their lips met in a ferocity Python couldn’t grip, he was melting despite how early on they were into such a deceiving act, in the middle of the thicket. Python moves his arms to fondle any ounce of Lukas, his biceps, his hips, even making attempts to grab at his thighs. Lukas, however would not settle on the taller man standing above him. He moves quickly, making short time of switching their positions and leaning up to Python’s blanking expression. 

Lukas almost smiled at their positions; Python, who considered most things irrelevant to himself, and Lukas who couldn’t quite hold the leash on a far more animalistic side of himself. It was intense as the two made eye contact, Lukas softly exhaled, resting his forehead against Python. Sharing their breath, Python dazedly looked at the shorter man, moving his hand to caress Lukas’ cheek with his thumb. Python’s aching joint had been long forgotten, before leaning down to kiss Lukas passionately, the two soon growing lost.

It’s a frenzy, Python roughly against a tree as Lukas roughly bites and nips at his lips for access to Python’s mouth. He sucks on Python’s bottom lip, hands rushing to fondle any part of Python he can spare. Python finally, finally opens his mouth to Lukas, who animalistically pounces on the opportunity. He ferociously pounces on Python’s mouth, sucking and biting against his lips, fighting against Python’s tongue. Python’s mind runs rampant, nightwatch long forgotten as the two men express affections in their fit of desire and adoration. Lukas had moved his hands to Python’s arms, the pleasure mixing with pain as he grips the biceps. Python expects a bruise later, as Lukas continues to grip at his bruising bicep.

They pull apart, saliva connecting their lips together, it snaps away and Python smirks at Lukas, his hands cup his face as his eyes are predatory. Lukas’ lips are a bruising red and Python assumes he is no better than Lukas is. The two aggressively meet once more, sounds far more eminent than before. Python is gasping and letting out a softer moan, Lukas groans in between. Python can’t truly differentiate what’s occurring, everything is pleasureful to him, every graze of Lukas’ skin lights up Python’s entire body like wildfire. 

And Python’s mind clicks, it’s all the puzzle pieces together.

It’s all Lukas. It’s his physicality, it’s Lukas. Lukas his raging wildfire, the bottomless trenches in the oceans surrounding Zofia and Rigel. The bitterness of winter that Rigel experiences as they face it together. The sharpness of roses and the beauty of their color, the discernible meaning on their color. The undercurrents of the ocean, thunder and lightning that rampage during a storm. If Python had the grace and liberty to name anything in the world, natural disasters would be called ‘Lukas’. The name fits so well.

Python groans into Lukas’ mouth, gripping his jaw as as the two separate for seconds at a time before meeting with a clash of lips once again. 

The natural disaster. The immovable object, God’s will casting on the land. To show humanity the fear Abel felt, the lady casts judgment, as would their god, Mila. Lukas harbored the strength, the indecisiveness the brute force and contact the natural disasters take. The way it sucks the world, tragedy, and yet these disasters are beautiful. Hurricanes leave contretemps, misery and loss of hope. For it’s enemies. The ocean however, had sent the hurricane to keep it as a rose. A prickly outside force that’s disastrous, however at the center it’s simply the ocean. That is Lukas. The ocean is his Deliverance and Lukas is their hurricane.

Hell, Lukas is his hurricane. 

Python feels like an impending city, a cornfield during a vicious tornado as it rips up the earth. Python feels like the cracking ground of an earthquake when Lukas is with him. He feels unsteady, like he’ll go under soon. The feeling of gripping a rose, and tearing through his flesh. He’s infatuated with Lukas, Lukas and his animalistic strength and nature, his yielding for Python. His everything. Python feels like the burning trees in a wildfire. Considering the Deliverance, they consider themselves apart of Lukas’ flame. They stray from what’s true. The Deliverance will be the ash of Lukas. The Deliverance is the part of Lukas that will ground him, and make sure there is nothing left to burn.

Python wants it to burn, however. He wants to be engulfed in the flames of Lukas’ heat. He wants to be seared and charred in the flame. Cauterize him, burn him at a stake. To singe every hair on his head, to feel the explosion and growth of the flames when the campfire is fed dried sticks. 

Death by fire. It sounds amazing.

Python feels the radiating heat of Lukas, everytime the two pull away from one another it’s another rush when they reconnect. He can feel himself drowning in flames, in the natural disaster that Lukas is. 

That’s it. With every reconnection of their bodies that bide once more, Python wants to go out drowning in Lukas. Everything about him. 

It’s how he craves to leave his world. How he craves it all, he craves Lukas and everything about the man.

 

•

 

Craving You

**Author's Note:**

> sobs


End file.
